


Assets and Assistance

by ThePlace



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Bullying, Canon Compliant, Culture Shock, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Taz Graduation, this one goes out to all my fellow people traumatized by math class
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-17
Updated: 2019-11-17
Packaged: 2021-02-07 14:42:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21459748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThePlace/pseuds/ThePlace
Summary: In a small school like Hieronymous Wiggenstaff's School for Heroism and Villainy, news of the Firbolg's first day in accounting class spread fast, leaving him scrambling to find sense in such a place.
Relationships: Bud & Bartholomeus (The Adventure Zone)
Comments: 16
Kudos: 199





	Assets and Assistance

**Author's Note:**

> Once we get Justin's character's name pinned down I'll change the tag from Bud, but at the moment its the best way to organize the fics so its staying. Anyways, please enjoy!

On every pamphlet and poster advertising Hieronymous Wiggenstaff's School for Heroism and Villainy, the small number of students is always touted as one of it’s benefits. They go on and on about the intimate classes, personalized attention and the sense of community that will follow you long after you leave the school’s halls.

Oh and how students are ‘people instead of statistics’. That’s a big one.

However, what they don’t put on the pamphlets is that with only one-hundred and fifty students attending Wiggenstaff’s, everyone knows everybody and gossip travels fast.

“Y’all, that’s the fella I was tellin’ you ‘bout- The one from my accounting class.”

The Firbolg doesn’t pause as he passes by a group of students on the way to breakfast. There are many people in the class. No reason to think they were talking about him.

“You think he tries to pay tuition in acorns?” 

** _Ah._ **

So maybe the talking is about him.

He still doesn’t stop though. Instead he continues to follow Sir Fitzroy and Argo down the stone corridors. Not like he could have heard what they said next anyways. The laughter was too loud.

It does not bother him though. He will not let it.

As the three of them enter the Great Hall, Fitzroy still lamenting about the lack of crepes, the Firbolg Formerly Known As Bud begins piling his plate high with fruit. While not like the fruit from home- the bananas mushy, the apples beautiful and red but bland- they are still better than the odd pastries and egg dishes the others eat. It is as he inspects one of the limes which Argo swears will keep the dreaded scurvy away, one of the Firbolg’s ears flick as he hears a student at a nearby table say-

“He must’ve been joking right? Nobody could just,  _ Not Know Math _ .”

“Ollie, you weren’t there. You didn’t see him grabbing his head and yelling about clanging. There is no way in the nine planes he was kidding.”

“Gods I would’ve died of embarrassment.”

Pausing with his plate, the Firbolg tries to make sense of this. The others must have heard the clanging, yes? He could not have been the only one split by the unending confusion of the teacher’s words. Equity? Ownership? Assets? Twenty-five thousand? Mind-Acorns? These are not things! In his many summers, nothing like this has ever crossed his path. Why would they say he was joking?

He tries to push these thoughts out of his mind incase the fire behind the eyes returns, he really does. However, as he moves over to the orange juices, he again hears murmurs from yet another table that he can’t mistake as being about anyone else but him.

“I heard he tried to give Professor Bartholomeus his clothes in the middle of class like, what the fuck? Who does that?”

Why wouldn’t he offer his clothes? If someone needs them more, this is good? Isn’t it? The phrase in common ‘They would give the shirt off their back’ is supposed to be kind, yes? Maybe the meaning has been lost . . .

“It’s not fair, I’ve been looking forward to this class for years, and then the first day it ends after only twelve minutes because of this guy! We didn’t even go over the syllabus!”

They’re mad at him? Why? He did not ask for this, even told Friend Owl to call on another student. No one would be singled out for blame like this in his clan. 

Must everything here be so lonely?

As the Firbolg takes in a deep breath of stale air, he makes his way through the tables over to where his roomates sit. However, this is a mistake. His path takes him straight through the groups of other students and it feels as if dozens of eyes follow him as he towers over everyone.

“I hate to say it, but how did he even get accepted here?”

They have to know he can hear them.

“-thought Bartholomeus was gonna fly out the window he was that  _ frustrated.” _

Even as they try to be quiet they are not quiet enough.

“I’m honestly considering switching classes, like I just can’t handle-”

Is this why everyone wants him to have a name?

“- and I’ve heard that Firbolgs straight up  _ never _ leave their clans unless they were banished for something terrible. I bet he-”

So they can speak these horrible things about him easier?

“I feel bad for the guy, like there’s no way he’s gonna be able to be a sidekick or henchperson if he doesn’t even understand the basics of accounting. He’ll probably flunk out.”

** _No_ ** . 

He- They wouldn’t- He needs to do this. He has nothing else. He must serve to reclaim his worth- to be more than nothing. If he cannot be with his clan and he cannot be here, where can he be? How is it fair that they have created these words and numbers and then become angry for him not knowing it?

“Hey? Hey Friend Firbolg? You alright there chum?”

He blinks, not even realising that he reached the table. How long he’s been standing there, he doesn’t know. Argo, Fitzroy, Buckminster, Leon and Rainer are all already sat at the table, staring up at him like everyone else.

With a napkin tucked into his collar, Fitzroy is careful to chew and swallow before speaking. “Yes are you- Is everything okay? I believe the school physician is available if you need assistance?

“No. I . . . am fine.” He replies as he sits down at the table and begins picking at his fruit- His previous hunger all but gone. And while he’d be completely content to sit and stare down at his food, Buckminster has other ideas.

“If you don’t mind my asking,” he begins. “Are the rumors about your accounting class true? Did you really get Bartholomeus to let out class forty whole minutes early?”

He tries to take in a breath and nearly chokes on the air. “Yes.”

“That’s incredible!” Buckminster laughs, and although there is no malice behind the friendly ribbing as he called it the other day, the Firbolg still wishes it would stop. “What could you have possibly done to make him loose it?”

And it’s in that moment, as he’s running on only three hours of sleep from the past two nights combined, and he feels like he’s stepped on to a new world with new rules that he must follow despite the fact that no one’s told him what they are, this is the moment where the Firbolg snaps.

“I. Did. Nothing. It is you all who make these things, not me! Equity and assets they are . . . Not everyone knows this. That is fine, yes? I know things about the forest that you do not know, this is fine also! You cannot . . . You cannot give worth to your made up things and make others without worth for not knowing!”

And then he breathes, in and out and in and out but it feels like nothing. He did not mean to be that loud. Glancing around, he sees the eyes of his friends and of students and of even Professor Bartholomeus watching him from the faculty table and they all feel as stifling as the walls and ceilings caging him in. What is worst of all though are the looks of those sitting at the table. The confusion and shock and furrowed brows and open mouths, it’s all too much- Too loud.

“I . . . I am sorry,” he manages to get out. “Please forgive.”

And then in an instant, he does something that most people have no idea that Firbolg’s can naturally do.

He turns invisible. 

Whatever the reactions of the others are, he does not see them. Instead he quickly retreats out of the hall and out of the school itself until he as far away from the building as possible and into the quiet, comforted by the fact he cannot be followed as his invisibility remains up. It’s a lone tree he finds himself under, lying on the grass and staring up into the leaves. If his mind was not filled with the fire and the clanging, he could have fallen asleep there.

Why. Just why are they like this? This school, they talk about it being a family, but when he was still a part of his clan, they would have never treated him like this. Is this what families here are like? Those who are tied together by location not love? 

How lonely.

And while the Firbolg wishes that he could sit alone beneath that tree til the moon came out to greet him, he cannot as the sound of flapping wings and the close crunch of grass beneath talons lets him know another is near. When he looks up, the sight of Bartholomeus adjusting his robes greets him.

“Good morning Master Firbolg,” he calls and although Bartholomeus is looking in his general direction, it is obvious that he cannot actually see him through the invisibility. “May I join you for a moment?”

Sitting up and leaning against the tree, the Firbolg levels him a look. “If you come with more . . . _mind acorns_, no.”

“Ah no, no more mind acorns. I actually come with an apology.”

This gives him pause and after a moment he drops the invisibility and nods for Bartholomeus to sit beside him.

“I’ve given much thought to yesterday’s class,” he begins as he makes himself comfortable on the ground, the edge of frustration present yesterday gone. “And I have realised that what I did was cruel. Expecting you to fully grasp concepts in such a short amount of time that you have never in your life come across was hubris on my part. You even requested I call on another student and yet I continued on, forcing you to attempt this in front of your peers.” He sighs. “Being the best accountant does not always equate to being the best teacher unfortunatly.”

For a few moments, the two of them simply sit in silence beneath the tree, listening to the sound of the wind rustling through the leaves.

“That was your first class here, was it not?”

The Firbolg nods as he stares off at the school jutting from the ground in the distance. “Yes.”

Another sigh. “Well you have my sincerest apologies that I imparted such a poor first impression of them.”

“You are forgiven, Friend Owl."

“Thank you, Master Firbolg.” Bartholomeus nods and adjusts his glasses. “Now, I also do not want you to be discouraged about accounting, I  _ was _ sincere when I said that you could be a master accountant.”

“Mmmmmmmm,” he grits his teeth as the thought of equities and thousands enter his head again, threatening to bring back the clanging. “I am . . . Not so sure. Maybe- Maybe not for me.”

Looking actually pained by this, Bartholomeus is quick to say, “No please do not give up! How about this, I will not call on you in class if you have not raised your hand and if you come to my office hours, I will find ways to explain the concepts in terms that are more familiar with you.” He pauses for the briefest moments, tilting his head as he does. “If you don’t mind my asking, is common your first language?”

“No. My clan spoke to me in the words of Giants.”

“Ah, yes well-”

“And then taught to us were the elvish words, as they too lived in the forest.”

“So common is your third language then? Alright then how-

“But other’s call forest home too, so we learned to speak with the Fey as well.”

“Ah so you speak Sylvan? Very impressive and I-”

“Cannot forget druidic,” The Firbolg continues on. “But not all spoke this. Only some of us. Is secret though You cannot know it.”

Bartholomeus raises an eyebrow and peers at him over the rims of his glasses. “My, so you are fluent in five languages?”

“Yes. Common was just not . . ." He chuckles. “Common was not common.”

“Well although Giant is not a common language around these parts, I am sure we could work to procure your required texts and assignments in your native tongue if that would make things easier for you?”

He contemplates this as he watches a leaf slowly drift down from the tree. It gently touches the ground and the Firbolg nods. “This would be good. Thank you Friend Owl.”

And although Bartholomeus cannot smile with his beak, his eyes convey it all the same. “Your welcome. And please, if you need anything do not hesitate to ask. I cannot promise all of this shall be easy, but I hope I can make it better.” And with that, Bartholomeus stands up, brushes off his robes and begins walking away. Before he gets too far though, he turns his head but not his body and calls back. “Oh and take my word that within the day, the other students will have found something else to discuss. It seems you’re roommates, Sir Fitzroy and Argonaut are seeing to that personally.”

And then he flies away, leaving the Firbolg who has no name but does not need one to lay beneath the tree and worry not about the other students or accounting. To sleep alone, but not lonely.

**Author's Note:**

> Not shown: Fitzroy nearly raging when he realises that people have been making fun of his roomate for not understanding accounting and Argo prepared to leap from the shadows at any moment should someone forget that we all learn at different paces.
> 
> But yeah, the accounting scene was both extremely hilarious and also had some hurt/comfort potential so I started writing this immediatly. Also I really liked the idea of Bartholomeus working with him to make the class easier.
> 
> Finally, I based him knowing five languages off the fact that all Firbolg's know common, elvish, and giant, I'm guessing he has the outlander background which give him one more, and then all Druids know druidic. If my guesses on Argo's and Fitzroy's backgrounds are correct, he knows the most languages out of the main party. Oh and the whole thing with Firbolg's turning invisible is true, plus they all know disguise self which is pretty cool.
> 
> Anyways thanks for reading!


End file.
